Katy Birchall - Dramas of a Teenage Heiress

Every room I’d walked into since the start of the day had descended into ripples of whispers, so I wasn’t exactly surprised that all the students in the canteen looked up as I came in and then watched me sit down.

‘Do they all seriously believe that I tackled Nancy Rose to the ground over a handbag?’ I sighed, glancing nervously around me.

‘I think it’s a good thing,’ Grace said cheerily.

‘How is it a good thing?’ I asked, baffled.

‘No one will mess with you now. I think most people are genuinely impressed that you took someone down.’

‘I did not take someone down,’ I groaned, lowering my fork and burying my head in my hands. ‘She tried to take the handbag from me.’

‘Technically, you took it from her first,’ Cal added.

I glared at him. ‘Whose side are you on?’

‘Always yours,’ he replied with a mischievous grin. ‘Even if you are a bit of a diva.’

‘Like Grace said, I think being escorted out of a handbag launch will do wonders for your street cred.’ Olly nodded, taking a sip of water. ‘No one will ever consider taking a dachshund handbag from you again.’

‘Let’s change the subject,’ I insisted, wishing I could go home and hide under my duvet again. ‘So, a school newspaper, huh, Cal? You should have said something.’

‘I felt you might not be too fond of journalists at the moment.’

‘ Some journalists,’ I replied.

‘I can’t wait to get started on the paper,’ Olly said enthusiastically. ‘I’ve got some great ideas for the first issue.’

‘Wait a second . . .’ I looked from Olly to Cal and back to Olly again. ‘You’re involved in the newspaper too?’

‘Meet the brand-new political commentator and film critic.’ Olly smiled. ‘It’s an unusual combination, I know.’

‘Wow,’ I said. I knew Olly wanted to go into politics or be a lawyer, despite his musical talents, so it kind of made sense.

‘I’m hoping that having someone as popular as Olly on the team might boost the appeal of joining,’ Cal said knowingly. ‘When word gets out that you’re involved, the crowds will flock.’

‘Ew.’ Grace wrinkled her nose as her brother laughed off Cal’s comments.

Cal was probably right, though. Olly was one of the hottest boys in the school, with his long dark eyelashes and sharp cheekbones and everything. Sometimes, when we talk, I find it hard to concentrate on what he’s saying because his eyes are so pretty and I get all lost in them and then I realise that he’s asked me a question and is waiting for a reply. I usually have no idea what he’s asked me because I’ve been thinking about how intense his eyes are, and whether he uses an eyelash curler or if that can possibly be natural, so I panic and just have to nod and go, ‘YES,’ confidently, hoping for the best.

This has led to many an awkward situation, like the time I accidentally agreed to be a backing singer with Grace at one of his band’s gigs.

Three minutes into the first rehearsal, he stopped the song, turned round to me with this amused expression and said, ‘I thought you said you could sing?’

Which is precisely why I did NOT leave my state-of-the-art speakers to Olly in my will that I wrote the other day after watching Nancy Rose’s vlog, despite him always whining on about how badly he wants the same ones. That will teach him for being so rude about my angelic vocals.

Instead, those beauties will be going to Bruce, Grace’s tortoise.

‘So, the team is looking strong so far,’ Cal continued. ‘We have Olly on culture, Grace as our lead investigative reporter and I will be heading up general features.’

‘And you’re the editor,’ Grace said, making Cal blush. ‘Kind of an important role.’

‘I’m hoping we’ll get some keen photographers too. Olly, doesn’t your friend Liam have a pretty cool camera?’

Before Olly could answer, I cleared my throat.

‘What about me?’

The three of them blinked back at me.

‘What about you?’ Cal asked, looking confused.

‘What’s my role?’

‘You . . . you want a role on the paper?’ Cal shared a confused glance with Olly. ‘You realise it would be extra work. You know, outside of school. You’d have to come up with ideas and stuff.’

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ I said huffily, narrowing my eyes at him.

‘Nothing, nothing.’ Cal laughed, holding up his hands. ‘Don’t want to rile the Handbag Hooligan.’

‘I am NOT a Handbag Hooligan,’ I fumed, feeling my cheeks growing hot. ‘And for your information there are loads of ideas I can bring to your stupid newspaper. Loads.’

‘Like?’ He said, leaning back and folding his arms with a bemused expression.

Honestly, there is no one in the world who can wind me up and get under my skin like Cal Weston can. He loves doing it too, which makes it even MORE infuriating.

‘Like . . . well . . .’ My mind went blank. ‘I’ll . . . think of something, just you see.’

‘I look forward to hearing your pitch at the first meeting after school.’ Cal grinned. ‘See you there?’

‘Oh, you bet you will.’

Later on I kind of regretted my decision. I had exactly zero ideas to bring to the paper and I didn’t know how I could be of any help, either. Everyone else had their specific interests, and working on this paper would help their future career. My future career was already decided for me – running Hotel Royale – and the only other interest I could think of that I had was my dog and his, frankly, fabulous wardrobe.

So, I decided that I would just tell Cal that actually, he was right. I didn’t have anything to bring to his stupid newspaper. I had plenty of other pressing things to do with my very important time, thank you very much.

Like trying to convince the world that I wasn’t a Handbag Hooligan.

When the bell rang, I marched determinedly into the classroom where the newspaper meeting was being held and straight up to Cal who was standing by the board at the front.

‘Cal,’ I announced, before he could say anything. ‘I’m not here to help —’

‘Then why are you here?’ a bored voice asked from the corner of the room.

I turned round and my jaw dropped.

‘Meet the newest member of our team,’ Cal said, shooting a warning look as he gestured to Ella.

You have GOT to be kidding.

‘What was I supposed to do, tell her she couldn’t join because you don’t like her?’

‘YES!’

Cal rolled his eyes from the seat next to me as Peter brought the car to a halt at some traffic lights. Reporters had been gathering around the school since lunchtime, hoping to catch me on my way out, so Mum had made sure Peter was there to drive me back. Cal usually just mills about the hotel after school, waiting for his dad to finish work, so I selflessly offered him a lift to the Royale with me after the newspaper meeting, with absolutely no hidden agenda, just out of the kindness of my heart.

But if he didn’t agree to cut Ella from his newspaper team, then he could walk home.

‘That’s not how it works, Flick.’

‘She’s trying to make you all think I’m a horrible person! She’s never even spoken to you before and now suddenly she wants to be your best friend!’

‘She doesn’t want to be my best friend; she wants to do fashion pages for the paper. She’s trying to get an internship at a fashion magazine, so this would look good on her CV.’ Cal sighed. ‘She didn’t say anything about you in the meeting before you arrived.’